


(J)emma

by bythegrace



Series: (J)emma Universe [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Emma - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Regency, Best Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bythegrace/pseuds/bythegrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(J)Emma or the Jane Austen/Fitzsimmons cross-over you never knew you needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lady Garner Returns

**Author's Note:**

> I love regency era romance in the style of Heyer and Austen, any mistakes are my own. I try to make the voice as authentic as possible but I'm sure I fail dreadfully at historical accuracy!

“Dearest, dearest May, I cannot tell you how glad I am that you have settled in Perthshire again at last!” exclaimed Jemma excitedly, “although you have been such a faithful correspondent, I feel positively giddy at the thought of having you so close by once again,” As Lady Garner was a woman of few words, she merely smiled warmly and squeezed Jemma’s hand in response to her fervent speech.

Melinda May had been Jemma’s governess prior to her elevation to Lady Garner upon her marriage to Lord Garner some 10 years prior. Now she was a wealthy widow and occupied a far more elevated social position than her old charge. Yet, something about Jemma and her Uncle, Lord Coulson, and indeed all of Perthshire seemed like home to May. Now as she gazed upon Jemma, demurely attired in a round gown of rich peach which served to light her skin with a gentle glow; May mused that IF she were the type of individual to gloat over past successes she would have good reason to be inordinately proud of the young woman Jemma had become. To May’s biased eyes she imbued a perfect combination of brilliance, beauty, elegance and charm all tempered by the warmest of hearts. Naturally, Jemma had her faults, namely a slight propensity to interfere in matters frankly beyond her purview; however Jemma’s natural exuberance and general kindness prevented most people from finding fault with her ‘meddling.’ 

Jemma, being a solicitous host and of course a frankly curious young woman, turned to include Lady Garner’s young companion in her effusive welcome, “And you Ms. Johnson, I can already tell we shall be the best of friends, not only because the quantity of gently bred young ladies in the district is sorely lacking,” she said with a tinkling laugh, “but more because any friend of May’s or perhaps I should say Lady Garner’s, shall always be a friend of mine,”

“You are too kind, too kind by half,” responded Daisy, her brown eyes merry, “but if we are to be friends, I insist upon you calling me Daisy, Ms. Johnson sounds entirely foreign to my ears!”

“Well then you must call me Jemma”

“Oh, no I couldn’t,” Daisy said with a quick shake of her head

“Oh I insist!” exclaimed Jemma with such a genuine sweetness that Daisy was forced to capitulate in the form of a quick nod.

“Excellent,” Jemma stated in the manner of someone who has just settled a weighty matter of deep import, “Now tell me Daisy, have you had an opportunity to see much of the countryside?”

“No, not as of yet. I deeply love a good country walk; yet I have had much to do putting the manor to rights,” she replied. 

Jemma was secretly pleased with the intelligence of Daisy’s eyes and ladylike manner with which she spoke. When May had written to Jemma upon her purchase of Barleigh Manor and her hiring of a lady’s companion after her widowhood some 14 months prior Jemma had been hopeful that May’s new companion would be someone who could become a friend.

“Were you jesting, or is the local society truly constricted?” Daisy asked shyly, “Not that I would mind, this is such a lovely part of the country, and as long as Lady Garner is happy” she followed quickly.

“No not at all,” Jemma replied with a laugh, “the society is quite good, full of interesting and thoughtful people, we are merely at a bit of short when it comes to young women you see,” replied Jemma, and with a quick appraisal of Daisy’s trim figure, lustrous dark hair and guileless eyes, “there shall of course now be a line forming at Lady Garner’s door of young men begging for an introduction.”

“That…” Daisy began haltingly before throwing a beseeching glance at Lady Garner.

“I’m sure Daisy will be pleased to make the acquaintance of everyone who lives here Jemma,” replied May with a definitive tap against her teacup. 

“Just so, May,” replied Jemma with just the glimmer of a grin, she was glad to see that widowhood had not dulled her old friends imperious nature.

“I have made the acquaintance of one young gentleman,” daisy began, seemingly suddenly unsure as both Jemma and Lady Garner’s attention shifted quickly towards her again, “I didn’t speak to him long, but he seemed very kind and exceedingly affable,” Daisy said, imbuing the praise with a warmth that Jemma found surprising for the short acquaintance Daisy claimed to have with the young gentleman.

“Who was he?” May asked with the hint of a frown forming at her brow.

“A Mr. Campbell, he said he lived near the village,”

“Campbell?” Jemma mused quietly with the assurance of someone who knew the local society like the back of her slender hand, “I’m not well acquainted with a Mr. Campbell.”

“I believe his first name was Lincoln,” Daisy volunteered shyly.

“Lincoln!” Jemma exclaimed, “Lincoln is the local apothecary, when you said gentleman I assumed…” catching the bit of censure in May’s glance, she made her town more concilliatory “Not that he isn’t a perfectly amiable young man. You shall be quite thrilled with the gentlemen you encounter if you find Lincoln so memorable,” Jemma couldn’t help adding.

“Do you have an understanding Jemma?” Daisy before suddenly realizing the forwardness of such a question, she colored lightly, “pardon the question it was rather forward” 

“Not at all,” Jemma replied with a warm smile, “I am rather determined to be a spinster you see,” and at Daisy’s widened glance, she quickly followed, “I have a comfortable independence from my parent’s legacy, a wonderful home here with my Uncle Coulson, a thriving career in botanical research and a very fruitful partnership with an old friend, Marriage would more likely than not disrupt all these things I hold dear while adding very little to my happiness.”

“Ah, the partnership persists?” asked May with a quirk of a slender brow.

“Why of course,” replied Jemma with a laugh, “although he has attained such fame and wealth that I somehow wonder why he stays here in Perthshire”

“I recall when he was just a slip of a boy, with that unruly mop of hair and a decidedly fearful look,” May mused.

“Somethings don’t change Lady Garner,” replied the object of their discussion from the doorway, his deep blue eyes alight with warmth. He was dressed rather plainly in a suit of dark blue superfine, and if Jemma looked closely she thought she could see the faintest of oil stains on this right shirt cuff. Fitz had never been one for elegance. He preferred convenience and practicality, both in his attire and in his hair, which currently was golden windblown hallo around his head. “It is a pleasure to see you again,”

“My dear boy, you are all grown up it seems,” replied Lady Garner, her eyes quickly flitting towards Jemma. 

“Fitz!” cried Jemma happily, raising her hand out to him in welcome; he bowed over it absently as his gaze strayed towards Daisy. 

“Ms. Daisy Johnson, allow me to present one of my oldest and dearest friends, Mr. Leopold Fitz, he is the partner I mentioned” for a moment Jemma’s gaze flitted between the two and she allowed herself to look at Fitz, her Fitz with unbiased eyes. He wasn’t the tallest or even the handsomest man in the district, but he had lovely eyes, perfectly symmetric facial features, and a warm firm mouth… Jemma paused her thoughts from straying into that direction. 

“How do you do Sir?” Daisy asked with a sweet smile.

“Very well, thank you” he replied before turning to include Lady Garner in his reply, “You look lovely as always Lady Garner. I trust you ladies have been busy setting up your new home, you must be famished. I took the liberty of asking  
Ms. Simmon’s butler to lay out a brief repast in the solarium.”

“You mean you must be famished,” Jemma teased him softly, her words suffused with warm affection.

“Those are not two contradictory statements,” he replied with a chuckle as he slipped Lady Gardner’s hand through his arm to escort them to the solarium, “I came to see if you had an opportunity to fiddle with that mechanism we were working on?”

“No I’m rather sorry I haven’t, Uncle has been a bit under the weather and dear Barbara and Mr. Hunter came by earlier for tea” replied Jemma remorsefully

“No matter,” he replied, his eyes distant, “I think I have come up with a more elegant solution,”  
Jemma sensed he was about to launch into a scientific conversation likely to alienate her guests so she quickly diverted his attention, saying simply that they could work on it together tonight. 

“I shall hold you to that” he said with a smile and a gentle squeeze of her shoulder before turning back towards her company.


	2. The Workshop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo Fitz was not by nature a man who embraced adventure.
> 
> He had at the age of 16 learned everything about mechanics that his renowned University had to teach him and his professors encouraged him to travel to Paris to train at the Sorbonne. His mother was quick to remind him that there was a war raging in France, and that she was not going to allow her youngest child to travel there unaccompanied. Rather than admitting defeat, he had instead sought the mentorship of the one man in England who he felt could further his education. He was certain that he would be unable to due so under the auspices of his family, so he left his mother a note assuring him of his safety and informing her that he would be going to the south of England to further his training, purposefully vague of his direction but with the promise to write and visit soon. When he arrived at Hartley Manor, the ancestral seat of Lord Philip Coulson, he was directed to his workshop. It was there, upon the opening of the door, that he was confronted with the greatest adventure of his life, a slip of a girl in welding gloves and all the confidence of the world.
> 
> Her name was Jemma.

Leo Fitz was not by nature a man who embraced adventure. 

He had at the age of 16 learned everything about mechanics that his renowned University had to teach him and his professors encouraged him to travel to Paris to train at the Sorbonne. His mother was quick to remind him that there was a war raging in France, and that she was not going to allow her youngest child to travel there unaccompanied. Rather than admitting defeat, he had instead sought the mentorship of the one man in England who he felt could further his education. He was certain that he would be unable to due so under the auspices of his family, so he left his mother a note assuring him of his safety and informing her that he would be going to the south of England to further his training, purposefully vague of his direction but with the promise to write and visit soon. When he arrived at Hartley Manor, the ancestral seat of Lord Philip Coulson, he was directed to his workshop. It was there, upon the opening of the door, that he was confronted with the greatest adventure of his life, a slip of a girl in welding gloves and all the confidence of the world.

Her name was Jemma.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Their friendship was nearly immediate and their collaborative efforts, under the warm guidance of Lord Coulson, proved fruitful beyond even their own expectations. They were each oddities in their own way, neither exactly conforming to the social mores of their somewhat constricted society. But people were terribly fond the inhabitants of Hartley Manor and were thus disposed to look upon Lord Coulson’s new apprentice benignly. 

It was a shock to the society when the Countess of Aster, or Fitz’s mama, came to call upon Lord Coulson on Fitz’s 20th birthday. Fitz had been in contact with his rather imposing parent and had implored her not to come to see him in Perthshire; yet after long making her own inquiries she was insistent upon finally ascertaining for herself that her darling third born son was kept in a manner that ensured his ease and comfort. So Mr. Leopold Fitz, apprentice to Lord Coulson and errant inventor extraordinaire was revealed to be the Honorable Leopold Fitz, third son of an Earl, brother of a Viscount and great-grandson of the Duke of Chester; it was understandable that a stir was created in Perthshire, that the society never quite recovered. Soon Fitz was the most in demand guest and was forced to give up his lodgings in his snug garret above the workshop due to the sheer number of callers he was forced to endure. 

He and Jemma had amassed a small fortune in patents by this time and he was able to purchase a serviceable, if somewhat lifeless estate; it’s only true allure its proximity to Hartley. And so he and Jemma continued, less and less under the guidance of Lord Coulson due to his troublesome knee, but ever productive in their work, much under the same manner they had worked for years.

It was in this workshop, which smelled of solder and iron and felt more like home than his cavernous Manor, that Fitz was faced with the daunting task of confronting Jemma about her recent behavior, a task he could not but dread. 

It was fortuitous that 14 minutes into their experiment that Jemma blew the hair from her face while keeping a firm hold of both clamps, and huffing in an exasperated manner which would have shocked both her old Governesses, “Well, you might as well say it rather than stewing it over endlessly!”

“I’m not stewing,” he replied peevishly.

“Lower your voice,” she said with a nod towards her maid, who now rested in an awkard repose by the fire. Propriety insisted that Jemma be chaperoned while alone with Fitz, a custom they abhorred until Jemma had found the sleepiest maid in all of England. Now they simply needed to lower their voices while they conversed. 

“Fine,” he said in a mock whisper, “I am not stewing; I was merely contemplating the best way to address the events of the prior few weeks. I find that as your friend I’m compelled to change your mind before Ms. Johnson is seriously hurt.”

As always, Fitz couched his censure of Jemma in terms which she could not reasonably object. She had of course erred in her initial attempts at matchmaking, rather magnificently in fact. Had she been able to successfully invent a mechanism for turning back time she would have surely reversed it to exactly four weeks prior, the very moment before she had suggested to Daisy that Reverend Grant Ward would be an excellent marital prospect. Jemma groaned internally at the chaos that had ensued, both in the revelation of Rev. Ward’s true nature and the heartache it had caused Daisy. 

“Don’t you see,” Jemma implored, “Now I must make it right by finding Daisy someone truly worthy of her!” 

“No!” Fitz exclaimed before quickly lowering his voice, “No, Jemma you have done nothing but push Ms. Johnson towards men entirely unsuitable for her. What of Lincoln? He seems an excellent sort of young man.”

“Lincoln! I cannot understand why she should settle for anything less than a gentleman, she is a gentleman’s daughter after all”

“Yes, so we suppose, but remember she is a foundling and there are many who would object to marrying a woman of uncertain antecedents," he replied reasonably

“You would not,” she said with the certainty of a long acquaintance, “But then again you are uncommonly good sort of man,” she finished with a look of fondness.

Fitz felt his ears color at the unexpected praise, “I don’t mean to censure you, you must know I find no pleasure in it. But I cannot stand idly by as you raise that poor girl’s expectations only to have them dashed.”

“I suppose you are right,” she mused, “I shall try to find the right sort of man for her rather simply the most eligible,” she said in what she hoped was a conciliatory tone.

“Jemma,” he said with a trace of censure and exasperation, “That is not what I meant.”

“So you propose that Daisy persist in her unwed state, into perpetuity?” she rallied

“No, of course not! For a woman of Daisy’s position in life marriage is the most sound and reasonable course to future stability, I merely question your role in such an arrangement.” Deciding a different tact was needed, “Why have you decided to play such a role in the matchmaking, I thought you were the one who was always skeptical of the institution of marriage.”

“Of course I am for myself," she replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "As I am perfectly content with my life as it is now. I fancy as I have never had an attachment strong enough to compel me from my comfortable life in my 25 years, I doubt I shall ever marry.”

“25 is hardly ancient my dear,” he said with a touch of amusement.

“You say that because 27 looms before you,” she replied with a smile, “and after all it is entirely different for a man, with the freedom you enjoy you could have your choice of beautiful young debutantes as the new Mrs. Fitz” her tone was light but her heart felt unaccountably heavy at the thought. 

“I should make some poor girl a terrible husband,” he replied with a frown, “Ever skeptical of her interest in me, always ruining my clothes and forgetting dinner, not to mention keeping company with a beautiful young woman,” he said with a half-smile, which she couldn’t help but return, “I’m sure in no time flat she would forbid me from returning to the workshop at all” he mused absently.

Jemma stilled at the thought, a life without Fitz? She quickly shifted both clamps to a single hand and placed her newly free hand, glove and all upon his forearm, “I don’t think I could bear that,” she said with a tremulous smile, “I find that I am not overly fond of the new Mrs. Fitz.”

“Jemma are you angry at a creature that doesn’t exist?” he said with a short laugh, “you are absurd.”

“Well perhaps I am that,” she said with a self-effacing laugh, suddenly unable to look him in the eye, “but all the same I don’t know what I would do without you,” she admitted glancing up at him through her lashes. 

His expression was inscrutable and suddenly Jemma was anxious to hear his reply. 

Yet it was not to be, for at that moment, Mrs. Barbara Hunter, or Bobbi as she was affectionately known to Jemma entered their sanctum. “Mask,” they both said in union, pointing to the masks that covered their faces.

Mrs. Hunter, familiar with the workshop as a longtime observer of their work, quickly found and adorned an additional mask before joining them at their workbench.

After the exchange of pleasantries, Mrs Hunter announced that she had news, and such news that she had been anxious to deliver to Jemma this long age- Captain Daniels, her brother-in-law, would soon be descending to Perthshire at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to all of those who wrote the lovely comments and those who left kudos, much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Daniel's arrival stirs the pot so to speak.

The sharp swipe of his cane across the long grass before him and the heavy thump of his boots were the only sounds surrounding Mr. Fitz; but inside his mind a single name, 'Captain Daniels," echoed mercilessly. He had ridden into Perthshire and his presence had swept through the small hamlet like a brushfire; soon the town could speak of nothing else. In truth, there was much to laud, Captain Daniels was well mannered, well groomed (adorned in the finest tailoring the town had perhaps ever seen) and most of all he was eager to please and be pleased in return. The ladies of course were first to be held captive in his spell; for he was broad of shoulder, narrow of waist, had a fine head of dark brown locks and a handsome regal countenance. 

Mr. Fitz had of course disliked him on sight. 

Well, perhaps not immediately on sight, perhaps a minute afterwards. For of course, Jemma saw Captain Daniels first; and it was only after Mr. Fitz saw Jemma’s face that his somewhat irrational ire had first arose. 

Now of course the irritation was wholly rational, for it seemed all the town could speak of was Captain Daniels. What he had eaten and where, whom he was seen with, speculation on his fortune and future plans echoed through every home. Mr. Fitz was not one to fully embrace society, but he often stopped for tea with a few of his closer neighbors in addition to his visits to Hartley; yet, he hadn’t a hope for rational conversation at any of the homes or places he was normally want to visit. 

He had escaped to Hartley with the expectation of talk of science, or at least talk of sense. But it was not to be. Lord Coulson’s knee had improved after a helpful tisane provided by Lincoln and he had taken the opportunity to pay a call on Lady Garner. 

Fitz found Jemma ensconced in a comfortable coze with Daisy in the solarium. He had only been welcomed and invited to take tea before they both launched into a fervent description of Captain Daniel’s pleasing address. Then Jemma had begun to question him on Captain Daniel’s plans and his intentions on making Perthshire his new home. Mr. Fitz felt himself bristling, he could only reply in astonishment that he had only briefly made his acquaintance at the Hunter’s musicale three days prior, and of course as both of them had been in attendance at the event, they knew the same information he had been made privy to. 

This speech was met with silence, and after a moment’s pause Jemma was the first to speak, “You cannot mean to say that you have not been to call on him since?” 

“Why on Earth should I call on him,” Fitz replied furrowing his brow.

“Why? You of course are one of the most esteemed personages in the vicinity, to not call on him is an obvious and seemingly deliberate slight,” Jemma replied hotly.

“I have no intention of calling on him,” he said with a mulish look, “I haven’t the first interest in learning more of Weston’s tailoring, or whom in his set has the sweetest goers or any other such nonsense. The man is devoid of intelligent conversation,” Fitz stated as his jaw squared.

Daisy could only look between him and Jemma in consternation.

Jemma opened her mouth, only to close it again. When she spoke her voice was lowered with a hint of anger and her eyes had narrowed, “Mr. Fitz, you are being unusually uncharitable both in your speech and your demeanor. I cannot for the life of me understand why you have taken Captain Daniels in such dislike, but I have found him to be nothing but pleasing in his address and manner,” she paused and with an imperious raise of her nose, “I should hope that you extend to him the same welcoming hand the town extended to you when you first arrived here.”

Fitz could only let out an irritated sigh and would have replied further if it were not for the maid entering with the tea. In between the act of pouring and the exclamation of the excellence of the current scones (a favorite of Fitz’s that always seemed to be on the menu at Hartley) the tempers of both combatants seemed to have cooled slightly. 

Fitz was at last able to bring up the news that had brought him to Hartley, “Well Jemma, as you are such a proponent of laying out a welcoming hand, you shall be well pleased to know that an old acquaintance of ours, Ms. Azure Maveth, is return to Perthshire shortly. 

Jemma’s hand stilled, and she carefully replaced the teacup on its saucer, before speaking. “Ms. Maveth? I had thought she was abroad. Moreover how are you so well appraised of her whereabouts?” her eyes slightly narrowing once more. Ms. Maveth had always been lauded by both Lady May and by Mrs. Hunter as womanhood perfected, both for her skill at the piano and for her perfectly ladylike demeanor. Jemma had always thought that Fitz had showed Ms. Maveth a greater than anticipated consideration and often spoke highly of her intelligence; something that had always rankled Jemma.

“I was instructed to deliver this news to you when I stopped by the Hunters this morning, I had intended to come straight away to Hartley afterwards but was waylaid at the Apothecaries,” at the mention of the apothecary he noticed that Daisy slightly colored.

“Apothecary!” Jemma exclaimed, “Are you unwell?” she asked, her hand reaching out to his.

“I’m perfectly fine, I simply wanted to commend him and thank him for the fine tisane he had sent for Lord Coulson,” he said with a slight softening of his tone. As a youth he had often bristled at Jemma’s overly coddling manner towards him, but he had come to see it as a mark of her affectionate heart. “As such, I am a few hours late in delivering this news, and I expect that Mrs. Hunter will be calling on you soon to relay the news herself.” 

It was not ten minutes later that the esteemed lady arrived at Jemma’s doorstep, escorted by her husband and the now famous Captain Daniels. The room was thrown further into confusion when minutes later Lord Coulson returned with Lady May. Mr. Fitz used the opportunity to bid a good day to the crowd. Unlike her usual practice Jemma did not walk him to the door and further waylay him at the threshold with her steady conversation; nay she did not even tear her eyes away from Captain Daniels long enough to acknowledge his halting farewell. 

It was this dismissive goodbye that had finally pushed Mr. Fitz over the edge into the petulant mood that had him swatting at the blades of grass before him as if they were gnats. 

He had not walked more than five minutes when he heard his name called from behind him, when he turned he saw Jemma clutching her pelisse and scrambling down the hill behind him. 

He turned quickly walked towards her, concern writ across his face, “My dear are you quite alright?” he asked when he was close enough to take in her flushed face.

“I…” she seemed suddenly unsure. “You left,” she suddenly blurted out, “Without saying goodbye, and I wanted to make sure that you weren’t…you aren’t angry with me are you?” she asked her teeth worrying her lip. 

Fitz, felt an irrational desire to draw her to his breast and comfort her as he had once or twice before in their youth, but instead he tucked his cane beneath his arm and took both her hands in his and squeezed, “Angry with you?” he asked his gaze as soft as his voice, “Never.”

She moved closer unconsciously, “Oh Thank God. I thought I had offended you with my commands and dismissals. I don’t care who you like or welcome,” she rambled, “Just promise never to leave me in anger, you gave me such a fright!”

His hand reached up of its own volition and tucked her shawl about her shoulder, “I’m terribly afraid you are stuck with me for the time being,” he said with a smile, “You should return inside, it’s cold and your shoes are doing nothing to keep you from the chill.”

She nodded absently as he she felt his fingers brush a lock of hair from her forehead, “You will be at the assembly at the week’s end?”

“Yes, I expect so, it shall be nice to see all our neighbors.”

“Including Ms. Maveth?” Jemma asked innocently.

“Yes,” he replied uncertainly, “I would love to hear of her travels”

“I’m sure she will save you a dance,” Jemma replied in a tone, that had Fitz not known better, would have sounded almost bitter. 

“You know I never dance,” Fitz replied absently, puzzled by Jemma’s behavior. 

“Yes...I supposed I forgot, well I am glad then that we have Captain Daniels now to make up the numbers.”

“Yes,” he replied, the shortness suddenly back in his voice, “You should get inside,” he said nodding back at the house. 

She smiled him at him warmly as he impetuously drew her hand to his lips in farewell, and if anyone saw her face on her return to Hartley they would have noted that she almost glowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are still liking it! Next chapter is the assembly, one of my favorites. I love how in both Emma and AOS both couples are so intrinsically comfortable with their platonic but affectionate relationships until an external threat makes them want more :)


	4. Chapter 4

The assembly was in full swing before she saw him hovering by the door. Had she been unconsciously watching the entryway all evening in anticipation of his arrival? ‘No of course not’ she told herself with a brisk mental shake of the head. She had never done so before in the course of their long friendship, and nothing had changed. ‘Or had it?’ that inner voice asked. 

Certainly her gaze had never before lingered so long on his lovely profile, or noticed how genuine and warm his smile was as he greeted the less well to do or less prominent citizens of the community. 

It was simply his attire that drew her attention she told herself. It was wholly unusual for him to be dressed in anything other than his most serviceable attire. Yet, tonight he looked like every inch the aristocratic young gentleman he was. She faintly recalled him telling her that his sister-in-law Pippa had insisted on outfitting him properly on his last visit to London. Now Jemma was unable to stop her gaze from returning to his perfectly fitted jacket or his glittering sapphire tie pin. 

“He looks so handsome doesn’t he?” Daisy whispered into Jemma’s ear softly. 

“Who?” Jemma asked absently, “Are you speaking of Captain Daniels?”

“No,” Daisy replied with a questioning smile, “Mr. Fitz! Is that not who you were looking at just now?”

“Well….yes,” Jemma replied haltingly, both startled that she had been caught gazing at her old friend with such frank admiration and flabbergasted that someone else held his physical appearance in such high regard as well, “You think him handsome?” her voice rising up an octave.

“Why of course,” Daisy said with a laugh, “He isn’t the fine figure of a man that Captain Daniels is…but there is something about his gaze, the warmth of it, and he has a lovely smile….and”

“Yes, well he is a nice looking fellow, but nothing particularly out of the ordinary,” Jemma said stopping her abruptly, somewhat discomforted that she was not alone in admiration of Mr. Fitz. That he was not hers alone to admire was something she had never before considered, and the idea of it caused an ache deep in her chest. 

The man in question had been slowly making his way towards them and suddenly Jemma was face to face with him, his smile as warm as she had ever seen as he looked down on Daisy, exclaiming at her loveliness this evening. 

Daisy blushed to the roots of her hair and Jemma could not but look between the two of them with no little shock and surprise, had they formed a mutual attachment?

When Fitz turned towards her he was perturbed by the pained expression on her face. She looked so little like the smiling Jemma to which he was so used to seeing at these events. He had anticipated her to be aglow with  
happiness, being swung around mercilessly around the room in the arms of some handsome soldier or solid squire. “You aren’t dancing?” he asked softly.

Jemma drew back her gaze towards him, “I was sitting this one out with Daisy,” she replied, warmed by his solicitous regard for her, how good he was to notice. “I’m engaged for the next two with Captain Daniels”

“Of course,” he replied, his mouth tightening unconsciously around the edges, “May I procure you ladies some refreshment for you in the meantime?” 

In his absence the sets for the next dance began to form, and Jemma saw Captain Daniels whisper something softly in Ms. Maveth’s ear before striding smilingly towards her. 

“Jemma, Daisy, how is it that such lovely young women aren’t engaged to dance?” Mr. Hunter asked with a wolfish smile completely at odds with the tender manner he held onto Bobbi’s waist. “If it wasn’t for this devilish ankle of mine, I should take you both out there and show these young fools a thing or two,” he said tapping his cane on his bad foot.

“Well, I for one am pleased to at least be able to escort Ms. Simmons,” Captain Daniels said with a flourish. 

“Well that’s one settled at least,” replied Mr. Hunter with a smile, “Reverend Ward,” he called out to the man standing just adjacent, in deep conversation with Mr. Mack, “I see you aren’t dancing, yet the set is forming”  
Reverend Ward turned towards them, all smiles and acquiesce, ever eager to be of service to the prominent landed gentry, “It would be my immense pleasure to escort Mrs. Hunter,” turning towards Bobbi with a practiced smile “You look lovely this evening,” 

“No, no,” replied Mr. Hunter with the shake of his head, “I mean for you to escort Ms. Johnson, it isn’t done for such a picture of loveliness to be left with us old married folk”

“Ms. Johnson, I see,” replied Reverend Ward with a tightening of his face as his gaze slid from Daisy to Jemma, “You are right, as an old married man myself, perhaps I too should refrain from dancing” he said with a bow turning away from the group.

Jemma could see the mortification in Daisy’s eyes and she felt herself grow cold at Rev. Ward’s deliberate slight, yet before Jemma could respond Captain Daniels was leading her away to form the set. Jemma tried to make eye contact with Daisy to comfort and reassure her, but in the next moment it proved unnecessary for she saw Mr. Fitz approach Daisy and ask her to dance!

Jemma’s joy in that moment was profound as she saw the sadness and mortification in Daisy’s face change into something akin to elation, “Mr. Fitz is dancing!” she exclaimed to Captain Daniels, “He never dances!”

“I can see why,” Captain Daniels replied as they watched Mr. Fitz lightly tread on Daisy’s left foot. 

Jemma frowned at Captain Daniels flippant response. For all of Mr. Fitz’s grumbling and lack of social graces, he had been able to empathize with Daisy in a manner that Captain Daniels, for all his remarkable good manners, had not.

Jemma’s gaze lingered on Daisy and Mr. Fitz, and when Fitz caught Jemma’s eye he gave her a sheepish look which seemed to proclaim ‘I’m wretched at this but I’m trying.’ Jemma’s smile in response was like the sun, brilliant and overwhelming in its warmth and approval. 

Once it became evident that Mr. Fitz had broken his long held ban on dancing to dance with Ms. Johnson, Daisy was never more short of partners and Mr. Fitz himself became engaged for several more sets throughout the evening; making it impossible for them to speak until evening's end. When Fitz saw her partnerless for once at the edge of the ballroom, he moved towards her. She smiled welcomingly at his approach and had to press her thumb into her palm to restrain herself from reaching out him in gratitude. 

“You were marvelous,” she said to him glowingly as he reached her side. 

He felt himself color at the praise, “Not at all, I’m not in practice and I don’t think Daisy shall thank me tomorrow when she sees the bruising on her toes,” he replied with a self-deprecating laugh.

“No, absolutely not,” Jemma replied in mock severity, “This time I shall not allow you laugh away your heroism…you stepped in at precisely the right moment to save Daisy from mortification after Rev Ward’s snub…which we both know was the result of my meddling,” she said ending softly.

“Well I shall not allow you to place the blame for the world’s misdeeds on your shoulders as you are so want to do,” he said pointedly, drawing her arm into his own as they both watched the dancers, “His boorish behavior isn’t your fault, you’ve been an excellent friend to that young woman as we both know.”

Jemma felt tears spring into her eyes, he was so good to her. She swallowed quickly to bring herself to equilibrium, “You know I continued to watch you out there, on your subsequent dances, you really had a rather stunning return to form towards the end,” she said with a laugh, “But I am miffed about one thing,” she said turning towards him, unable to meet his eyes but a secretive smile belying her words.

“What?” he asked entranced by that enigmatic half smile and by the sensation of her gloved hand absently drawing a pattern on his forearm. 

“Why you never asked me to dance, and I wager I am your oldest friend at this assembly.”

“Oldest, dearest and best,” he said tenderly, as her eyes met rose to meet his own, “Well…my dearest, oldest and best friend will you do me the honor of this next dance?”

“Gladly,” she replied, her face unconsciously mirroring the look of adoration of his own.

 

The next morning Fitz’s good humor over the events of the assembly was not destined to last. When he strolled into Mr. and Mrs. Hunter’s parlor the next morning Mrs. Hunter was alight with a nervous energy  
“Isn’t it marvelous,” she said barely able to contain her excitement.

“Isn’t what marvelous?” Fitz asked confused.

“Why Jemma and Captain Daniels of course,” she replied in a mock whisper. 

“It isn’t a settled thing Bobbi,” her husband lightly admonished from his chair.

“Yes, well he danced with three times at the assembly, that’s as good as a declaration,” she replied while ushering a stunned Fitz to her table.

“Perhaps,” her husband replied, “He could do no better than our dear Jemma,” Mr. Hunter said fondly. With a sense of perception that was not often attributed to him, Mr. Hunter noted that that although he had maintained his silence during Bobbi’s declaration, Fitz had become rather pale. 

“Yes, and Lance overheard Will speaking to Mr. Mack the solicitor about marriage settlements at the assembly last night, and even just now Will has gone to take Jemma for a ride!” Mrs. Hunter added breathlessly.

“Yes, well….I see,” mumbled Mr. Fitz. Suddenly recalling his location and audience he straightened and forced a smile, “Jemma has mentioned a dozen or more times at how gentlemanly Captain Daniels is, and remarked on his pleasant nature.”

Mr. Hunter slowly realized the nature of Fitz’s discomfort, and recalling his own pain at his initially fruitless courtship of his now wife, he felt the need to comfort and bolster his old friend, “It isn’t settled as I’ve said, and we all know Jemma, she is kindness personified, who even knows if she holds Will in any special regard?”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Hunter replied, “I know Jemma and Will is just the type of man she has always held as an ideal, with his pleasing manners and jovial demeanor, not to mention his height!"

"You forgot to mention the breadth of his shoulders my dear," Mr. Hunter gently mocked.

Mrs. Hunter carried on as if she had not heard, "The whole town has noticed his particular attentions towards her; I wager it is just a matter of time before the engagement is announced," she finished with a final flourish of her hand and a tap of the table, not unlike a judge passing a final verdict on the case before him.

Fitz was mercifully saved from responding by the entrance of the tea; yet for once he found himself entirely without an appetite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one chapter to go, and maybe an epilogue. For coulson/may fans they have their own story which is part of this series. Thanks for reading and all your lovely comments, they really motivate me to write :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I had to add a chapter, because the final chapter got too long, it will finish up next chapter. Plus this part of the book is always one I found so painful (how fun)

It was no use. The experiment that had been two weeks in the making, the brainchild and labor of them both, was ruined. It was as obvious to Fitz as the nose on this face the reason-  
Jemma had been careless with the final calculations. Again. 

The past six weeks had seen three failed experiments, all due to Jemma’s carelessness. She was distracted, disorganized and perhaps even dismissive of their work. The wasted effort of them both was bothersome to Fitz, but the idea, the very notion that she was slowly abandoning science in favor of the company of Captain Daniels was painful beyond measure. That she could waste a mind such as hers in favor of endless rides about the countryside, and social visit after visit! Captain Daniels was converting his brilliant, brilliant Jemma from a scientist into a society miss. All that they had built together, their past and future all stood at risk. Fitz continued to impatiently dispose of the evidence of their failed trial, the subtle shaking of his right hand the tightness of his mouth the only outward indication of his displeasure. 

It was to this sight that Jemma arrived, and with long knowledge of their collaboration she immediately knew that the failure of their experiment was secondary to a manmade mistake rather than the failure of the science itself. 

“What happened,” she asked briskly, as she donned her apron and gloves.

“Nothing,” he replied shortly, the angry clatter of the thongs as he tossed them into the drawer belying his words. She paused in silence, she knew he would be unable to keep his peace for than a moment if something was truly wrong. Yet he remained silent, seemingly more focused in his endeavor after her questioning. He attempted to move past her, but she blocked his path, forcing him to join his gaze with hers. With a single, silent quirk of her eyebrow she reiterated her prior question.

His anger seemed to come to a head, “Fine. If you are so curious to determine the root of this misadventure take a glance at your final calculations,” sliding forward her lab manual towards her. Her prior curiosity skittered away, and with a sense of great dread she peered over her work, her error almost immediately evident to her. She crumpled, her knees giving way till she landed inelegantly on the bench beside her, all those weeks wasted and Fitz so dismayed. All her fault. 

Her mouth opened with an instant apology, but before she could begin, Fitz spoke again, “I can’t see why I’m surprised, this is the third time in the past six weeks where your carelessness has set us back. At this rate we shall never prove this hypothesis, is that what you want?” he asked, his color high. “I feel like I hardly know you any longer, our work seems to have become a mere afterthought in your life.” 

“Fitz,” she said, her eyes inadvertently welled with tears. It was true, absolutely true, that outings with Captain Daniels, most with Bobbi and Daisy in tow, had occupied a greater proportion of her time. That and the tumult of her emotions had made her far more prone to mistakes than ever before. Yet, for Fitz to assume that she loved science and him…or rather her work with him any less just because she was simply living the rest of her life was a ridiculous supposition, “You’re being absurd,” she replied dismissively, “I’m sorry, truly very sorry about the experiment. But you can’t assume just because I am spending more time with friends outside of these four walls that my dedication to science has somehow wavered.”

“Can I not?” he said his voice becoming equally fierce, “You claim to be a scientist,” he says as he pushed the notebook towards her once more, “look at the evidence and make your own deduction!”

Jemma was unsure if it is the fact that he is right about the experiments, or it was her dismay over the wasted work, or just the sheer look of disappointment in Fitz’s eyes that did it, but she then burst into tears in earnest. 

At the sight of her tears Fitz’s heart clenched in remorse, he sank to her side on the bench, gathering her in his arms, thankful for once that their chaperone is absent, “It isn’t the experiment that has made me so furious,” he said finally after taking a calming breath. “It is his influence on you, suddenly you live for pleasure, and that is fine for any normal mortal,” he says as a note of tenderness enter his voice, “But you are Jemma Simmons, England’s brightest mind….and I cannot stand idly by and watch you waste the talent God gave you in pursuit of a man such as he!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Jemma rambled into his cravat. Suddenly aware than despite her heartache, nothing had ever felt as right as being held by him like this. 

“No,” he said as he stroked her hair remorsefully, “I’m sorry…I haven’t any right to lecture you like that. You’re not a child, and as to intellect you’re my equal if not my better.” He sighed, and Jemma could feel it reverberate through her. “I’m turning into a bear Jemma, I should go to London for a bit and have my head sorted,” he said, attempting to lighten his tone, “I’ve been meaning to see my brothers and Mamma for an age, and I have to order more supplies now as well….also Lord Jensen of the scientific society is still pestering me,” he added softly.

Jemma’s grip on him tightened, Lord Jensen had been pestering him for an age to move a portion of his laboratory to London, had her failures convinced him it was time to do so? She felt herself crumble inside, could she be losing everything she held dear? She couldn’t trust herself to speak, to beg for him to stay, to assure him that she would be better, so she looked up at him, hoping to convey all these thoughts with the wordless language that they shared.

He swallowed, deeply. He could no longer deny to himself how he felt about Jemma…he loved her…he loved her as he had never loved anything or anyone before. With that knowledge came the immense fear of losing her entirely. He was being awful, miserable in fact towards his most precious object on Earth. How could he blame her for merely falling in love with the handsome, charming Captain Daniels? He couldn’t, he wouldn’t allow himself to lose her entirely. She could participate in the lab as much or as little she wanted, if only he could still be near to her like this. He would rather have some of her than none. He would learn, he would force him adjust to becoming a peripheral in her life. He couldn’t push her again if it meant possibly losing her altogether. 

The pensive look on his face drove Jemma nearly to madness, she could feel him slipping away from her and it was all her fault. “Come back to me?” she asked finally after holding his gaze for what seemed an eternity.

He nodded then slowly, and somehow resisted placing a kiss on her brow, “Always.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, the story is complete but I had to break the last bit up into two chapters because it was simply too long! so one more chapter to go!
> 
> I will also be posting the next part of "my second self " soon too! Thanks for reading and your lovely comments!

“Daisy, you look radiant this morning!” Jemma exclaimed while squeezing her friend’s hands between her own, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I have come to a decision my dear, dear Jemma, and I wanted to tell you first since it is all your doing!” Daisy stated smilingly as Jemma led her to the parlor.

“What is it dearest?” Jemma asked, “I am gripped by suspense, for I haven’t the faintest notion of what you are saying,”

“Why regarding Mr. Fitz of course,” Daisy replied, “I have decided to accept him of course.”

“Accept him?” Jemma asked, her entire body stilling, “Accept him for what? Daisy, you cannot mean…has he proposed to you?”

Daisy shifted in her seat, “Not in so many words yet, but he has been a frequent visitor to Lady Gardner’s, he has been everything solicitous and pointed in his interactions with me, he often asks me about my plans and aspirations and most recently he broke with his own hard-fast rule to never dance in order to dance with me!” Daisy replied triumphantly.

Jemma was struck silent while her mind whirled, had Mr. Fitz fallen in love with Daisy? He had spoken of her as an uncommonly pretty girl on their first acquaintance, and as she thought back to their youth in London he had always seemed to favor girls with her coloring. “Do you love him Daisy?” Jemma asked finally, her voice quiet.

“No, no I don’t,” Daisy replied, her voice equally quiet, “Yet, I am not particularly adept at loving men who would be good for me,” she said laughing bitterly, “there was a soldier in London, Miles….and then the beginnings of love with Rev Ward, and of course there was also …” she stopped abruptly with a shake of the head, “This time I shall make the decision of marriage with head not my heart, and I care for Mr. Fitz immensely, who would not? I respect him and I like him…I’m sure love will come eventually,” she said, her voice unsure. “I must take my leave now my dear,” Daisy said rising, “I promised Lady Gardner I should return soon,”

Jemma remained in a state of stupor but was able to collect herself enough to embrace her friend and lead her to the door. As she shut it she resisted the urge to sink to the floor and weep. Instead she collected her things and hurried over to the only person with whom she could speak about such things with. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mrs. Hunter was surprised to find the object of her concern, her old charge, slightly wet and shivering on her doorstep a scant 20 minutes later. She exclaimed over her and rushed to find a warming shawl for her, when Jemma was finally settled in front of the fire she waited for Jemma to finally reveal what plagued her.

“I’m so sorry dear Bobbi to barge in on you like this,” she cried, “But I couldn’t go to May with this, she is equally close to Daisy now it seems,” she said with the merest hint of bitterness in her voice, “I…I had to talk to someone, it is a disaster you see…” 

“Oh no my dear girl have you heard already?” Mrs. Hunter replied wringing her hands in dismay, “I feel entirely responsible for having encouraged you towards him and now this,” she exclaimed.

“I have not the faintest idea of what you are talking about,” Jemma replied. 

“Then you are not speaking of Capt. Daniel’s elopement?”

“Elopement?” Jemma exclaimed, “But with whom?”

“Ms. Maveth,” Mrs Hunter replied in sinking tones.

“Ms. Maveth!” Jemma exclaimed her voice aghast, “But he had intimated that he was in love with me!” 

“I’m so terribly sorry my dear,” Mrs. Hunter said rising to grasp Jemma’s hands, “Were you in love with him?” 

“Of course not,” Jemma replied brusquely, “But he didn’t know that!” Jemma replied indignantly, “He could have hurt me terribly.”

“Oh Jemma,” Mrs. Hunter said laughing with relief, “I’m so relieved that you are heart whole.”

“Well, not quite,” Jemma said softly, sinking to the sofa. “Mr. Fitz is about to propose to Daisy,”

“Well that is wonderful is it not?” Mrs. Hunter asked slowly, “They are both two of your dearest friends, and you have been on a mission to see Daisy well settled for this age” 

“Yes, but not with Fitz,” she exclaimed, “Fitz isn’t meant to marry anybody! And if he is going to marry it mustn’t be to anyone…” She stopped, suddenly alarmed by her own thoughts, “to anyone but me….” She finished softly.

“You are in love with Fitz,” Mrs. Hunter finished for her, “I had always wondered how two people so imminently perfect for one another should be unable to fall in love.”

“Well, he seems to be utterly immune to me,” Jemma sniffled, “But if I am entirely honest with myself, I’ve been in love with him since I was a girl! He was the reason I turned down those proposals my first season, he was…and is….everything to me…I just didn’t realize that it was love rather than affection and fondness, and now….I’m too late,” she said finally dissolving into tears.

Mrs. Hunter enfolded her into her arms as she had when Jemma was a girl, murmuring soothingly as she brushed her hair from her face. “You cannot despair just yet my dearest,” Mrs Hunter replied, “He has not asked her yet has he? You might still be able to speak with him, tell him how you feel.”

“I couldn’t,” Jemma replied, “What a terrible friend that would make me! Burdening him with my misplaced emotions when he clearly loves someone else,” Jemma wiped away her tears. “I shall persevere over these feelings and endeavor to maintain our friendship,” she finished resolutely, the effect somewhat marred by her persistent sniffling.

“You always do what is right my dear girl,” Mrs. Hunter said, hugging her as Jemma rose to leave.

“Thank you,” Jemma said as she squeezed her old governess fondly, “I can always depend on you." She stood still for a moment as she noticed the look of consternation in Mrs. Hunter's eyes, "Please don’t worry about me, I shall accept it, or learn to accept it eventually,” Jemma said, as she squared her shoulders, her look that of one who had lost everything.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We come to a close! sorry for the delay! I hope the last chapter is worth it :) The epilogue will come after the end of May and Coulson's story because I don't want to ruin it :)  
> I stuck pretty close to the original because the end of Emma is just perfection in my mind :)

It was a full 10 days later before Jemma saw a curly golden head appear in the window of her Uncle’s study.

She was outside in the garden, wrist deep in garden soil when she saw him. She tried in vain to quickly brush off the dirt from her gown and inexpertly untie the ribbons of her apron. Of course she would pick today of all days to spend the morning amongst her medicinal herbs she thought to herself irritably, her hair now a frizzy halo about her head, her nose tinged pink. She scurried up the back stairs and hurriedly made herself presentable, her heart pounding in her chest.

She both longed to see him and feared to hear him making his declaration. She had bravely practiced her congratulations in the mirror and she felt, despite their long acquaintance and his rather thorough ability to read her mind, he would be none the wiser of her true feelings.

When she finally arrived at the study door, it was shut. She felt the need to knock as they were surely in a private conversation when she heard Fitz raise his voice suddenly, “Lord Coulson, I assure you that Jemma is not the type of person to begrudge anyone a chance at happiness; moreover I believe her true and deep affection for both the bride and groom shall outweigh any of her surprise at the union.” She gasped, and backed away from the door. So Fitz had done it, or at least decided to propose.

Her uncle, perceptive man that he was, had ascertained that Jemma would be uneasy by Fitz’s marriage to another. Dear Fitz! He always had more faith in her than she had in herself, and now he was left to reassure her uncle that she wouldn’t mind a union between himself and Daisy! Would that it were true! If only she hadn’t foolishly fallen in love with him. Yet, her love for Fitz had grown insidiously between them, beginning in childhood and blossoming as they become young adults. She could no more mark the hour she had loved him than fix upon a favorite star in the sky.

She counted to ten in a vain attempt to control her breathing and stave off any oncoming tears, she drew forth once more, pressing her ear against the door. “Of course I love her…how could I not.” Fitz said his voice quiet but sure, “I have struggled against it of course….knowing how disruptive it would be, but I haven’t any recourse you see. I must speak or feel as if I shall combust”

Jemma could listen no more and she rushed away from the door. Grabbing a bonnet and shawl blindly from the hall, she rushed past their astonished butler and sprinted into the lane leading away from the house. No place seemed refuge enough, for every corner of the estate was imbued with memories of the two of them. She couldn’t face anyone else at the moment, she needed only solitude and time to allow the ferocious pain in her heart to hopefully dull into merely a throb.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour or so later, her tears began to flow less copiously and soon she felt herself rung dry, and where the pain had been, there was now nothing but a weary emptiness.She felt at last equal to returning in the direction of home. It was at this moment, or nearly so, when she heard Fitz’s footsteps behind her, and although her first instincts were to flee, she felt herself plastering on a brave face and turning towards him.

Consternation was writ large across his face, and the manner with which he exclaimed her name spoke of infinite relief, “Jemma! You had me worried, no one knew where you had gone off to”

“I’m terribly sorry,” she replied endeavoring to keep her voice light, “I suddenly felt the urge to take a brisk walk and got lost in the design of a new experiment.”

“Jemma, my dear girl, you needn’t pretend with me,” he said with aching tenderness as he drew her arm through his own, “I heard the news….and I rushed home,” upon seeing the look of confusion on her face, he continued, “That blackguard best never show his face in this county again or I shall fully endeavor to darken his daylights, soldier or not,” he finished darkly, “How he could use you so….to pretend to be in love with you….it is not to be borne, to hurt you so….”

Jemma could not let him continue in ignorance, turning towards him and placing a hand upon his shoulder looked up at him with infinite sweetness, “You are too good my dear, dear friend. If you are concerned upon the effect of Captain Daniel’s perfidy upon me I beg you to set your concern aside, for I never loved him you see. I was surprised to be sure, but my heart was not engaged by him, not in the least.”

At this Fitz nearly recoiled in surprise, and then seemed to keenly assess her for a long moment before finally taking her hands in his he replied, “Relief cannot begin to express my emotion…I had thought….perhaps, perhaps I was wholly incorrect in all my assumptions,” he finished lamely, a small smile breaking upon his face, “I am nearly convinced that I may discuss another possible engagement with you, one you may hopefully find more to your liking.”

Jemma paled, all her good intentions fleeing. “I pray you would not continue,” She said passionately with just the slightest wobble in her voice, “I am well aware of what you are about to say…and I wish you would reconsider…it would change everything you see.”

“I see,” he said finally, his lips straightening into a thin line, “I…I cannot say I am surprised…but I had hoped…you are right, I shall not speak, good day Jemma,” he said finally before turning away from her and walking quickly away.

At his abrupt acquiesce and subsequent departure, Jemma felt ill at her actions. Was this how she was to repay him for his years of friendship, loyalty and support?

She ran after him, calling his name until she was finally able to grab his elbow. When he swung towards her, his face was a mask of pain and confusion. “I’m sorry,” she nearly sobbed, “As your friend, as your oldest friend, I wish to hear everything you have to say.” She said fiercely.

“Friend?” he asked bitterly, “Well I suppose I am an idiot for hoping for something else,” he said almost to himself, “You wish to be wise, but it seems I cannot be,” he said roughly drawing her into his arms until his hands encircled her waist and she was flush against his chest. “Dearest, dearest Jemma. You want us to remain friends, and it seems I have somehow foolishly begun to want more than that,” At the look of surprise on her face and the glow of happiness that had begun to suffuse it, he became suddenly shy, “Can you guess what I might want from you?” he asked tightening his hold.

She looked upon his handsome but familiar face in wonderment, “I am told that we are able to read one another’s minds…but at this moment I only wish that were true!” she replied haltingly.

“Well then let me present some evidence from which you might draw your conclusions,” he replied, bringing his lips firmly to hers. His warm mouth covered hers and she could only release a contented sigh, as she pressed herself against him. Her heart alight and her pulse racing, she felt herself raised upon her toes, the kiss deepening as his arms lifted her up until she was flush against his chest.

When they finally drew back, he traced her deliriously happy face with the tip of his finger, marveling at the sudden turn of events and at the very notion that she could love him. “I love you Jemma…but you must already know that…I rode through the rain when I heard about Captain Daniels….I was so afraid he had broken your heart….I’d ride through the rain a thousand times if you needed me…Jemma…I…Good God Jemma, if I loved you less I could talk about it more,” he finished hoarsely. He gazed down at her with reverence, and emboldened by the blissful look on her face, “Marry me?” he asked simply, “You already are my partner in every true sense of the word…You have borne my ill temper, and my boorishness as no other woman could or would. Let me make you happy for the rest of our lives, I find that I could never be happy without you.” he said continuing to look at her if she was the most precious object Earth.

“If I have been silent it is because I’m afraid if I speak because I fear I shall be awakened from a dream,” she said finally, raising up upon her toes to kiss him again lightly, simply because she could. “I love you…I love you so very, very much….I believe I've loved you all my life. And I know without a doubt that I always, always will.” Happy tears began to form at the corners of her eyes which she brushed away impatiently, “So yes,” she replied, “Yes, I shall marry you and force you to put up with my ill temper and meddling, not to mention my foolishness, and indiscretions and …” her speech was abruptly cut short when she was forced into silence by his lips upon hers once more.

“Oh but Fitz, Daisy!” Jemma cried pulling away from his embrace.

“Daisy?” He asked confused, his mind still reeling from their heady kiss.

Jemma was suddenly unsure how to proceed without revealing Daisy’s confidence, “I had thought you were in love with her…I thought you were going to tell me you were going to propose to her! That’s why I had stopped you just now.”

“Daisy is a wonderful girl,” he replied, “But she isn’t you Jemma…and moreover, I fancy I’m not who she wants either,” he grinned, “I was actually in the process of making arrangements for her to obtain her heart’s desire when I was in London actually.”

“What can you mean Fitz?” Jemma asked, unable to prevent pressing herself from against his shoulder.

“I mean that she is in love with Mr. Campbell, and he with her. I think he was too conscious of the difference in their stations as a humble apothecary to offer for her so I have been to London to enroll him medical school…I have long thought that Perthshire should benefit from a doctor in the vicinity…with the change in station and income I believe Mr. Campbell feels himself equal to asking for Daisy’s hand.”

Jemma was struck speechless, she who had always fancied herself such an expert on attachments had gotten it all wrong. “Fitz,” she exhaled softly, “You are so very extraordinary…I am afraid I don’t deserve you,” she said with a tremble in her voice.

“Jemma!” he exclaimed aghast, “My darling it is I who don’t deserve you! I find myself thanking my lucky stars that you have been blinded to that fact by our long acquaintance,” he said with a laugh as he pulled her back into his arms. With that silent communication for which they were indeed famous, they decided that all discussions of who had gotten the better part of the bargain could be postponed until their mouths were less well occupied.


End file.
